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“One,” I hold up a finger, “Al didn’t say that he was alone. He always says if they have guards or friends with them. Two,” my fingers continue going up as I list, “He was nervous. Al’snevernervous. Three, no one ever asks me to go without Ben. They know better. Four, he never calls Ben abeast. At least not to me and not to Ben’s face. And five, I can talk to them about Wilson Blake.”

Before I can walk away, Ben wraps his arms around my middle and lifts me off the ground. I’m beginning to see a trend here. Beatrice wants to do something that Ben disapproves of? Hold her hostage until she calms down and relents.

“Why are you going?” He snaps in my ear again.

“Why do they want me there? Why the bullshit trap? He’s too embarrassed to tell his clan what happened, so it’s all hush, hush, don’t tell anyone? Uh, no. Frat boys brag about the stupid shit they’ve done all the time.”

Mitri and Kimi stand from the table as my legs curl up in my typical Ben’s holding me prisoner response. “None of you can come.”

“Pardon?” Mitri asks flatly as he buttons his jacket as if he didn’t hear me. Did he change his clothes from earlier?

“You’re supposed to be TGT agents, and it’s the Pub. You guys show up, and there will be even more trouble.”

Ben begins growling very softly. I can feel the rumble against my spine.

“Which pub?” King asks as he stands to join the rest. They just need to sit back down because they aren’t going anywhere.

“Your Villain’s Pub,” Ben snaps over his shoulder. It wasn’t in my ear, so baby steps.

“You’ve been going to thePub?” Mal shouts as I give him a bland expression. He turns to Ben next. “You took her there?!”

“I have a plan,” I tell Ben over my shoulder.

“Absolutely not,” Mal’s shout gets louder, and I wonder how tired Mike really is or if he’s hearing the commotion and locked himself in the bathroom.

King tries to put a hand on Mal’s shoulder, but he shrugs him off with a snarl.

“What’s your plan?” Ben asks me warily. My plans are usually a 50/50 split on whether he likes it or not.

“It doesn’t matter what it is because she is not going into thatfilth-infested-” Then he falls into speaking whatever language he uses that I don’t understand. He hardly stops for a breath as the tirade continues. But it sounds pretty, in an angry way.

“We should talk outside,” I raise my voice to be heard over Mal.

“You will speakhere!” Mal suddenly switches back to English and violently points to the floor at his feet.

His tail is lashing back and forth, hitting King’s leg. King doesn’t flinch, to his credit, but his glare on top of Mal’s is a little much to me. Solidarity. I get it. Beinghis mate is apparently a ride-or-die situation. They’re perfect for each other. Why are they fighting again?

“If someone would stopyelling, I would be happy to,” I glare, and his mouth snaps shut. I think this is a level seven glare, edging into an eight. I may have a chance to talk to him without being tied to a chair. I’m not holding my breath.

“Everyone in downtown knows that I’m a mender. I recently heard that it’s even in the damn newspaper. If you’re worried that someone evil out there will find me, news flash, they probably already have.”

Mal begins to snarl in a tone that shakes my insides, and his shoulders hunch. That’s new and makes me nervous. Hello, chains shackling me to the chair. Here I come.

“Breathe, Mal,” I snap, and his head rears back like I hit him. “I don’t go anywhere without Ben, period. No matter how much I bullshit a situation or joke around, I'm not going into a trap blindly. I plan to pop into the upstairs hallway and catch them by surprise. They aren’t expecting me to be there for another hour and a half if we wrap this up quickly. Ben, you port behind the bar as backup. I know you don’t like Al, and he’s an ass, but he’s in trouble. Would anyone else put up with us if he’s gone? No. I now understand why no other waitstaff will serve you when we’re there. Alalwaysoffers to get you snacks.”

Ben’s arms relax, and I put my feet down, allowing them to dangle.

“He’s sucking up so I don’t eat him.”

I ignore that and continue as if he never spoke.

“If there’s anyone back there with him, you can go in your preferred form, and bickety-bam, everyone runs for their lives in terror. If shit gets bad, I’ll pop home. No big deal.”

He lets my feet touch the ground, and I finally take a deeper breath.

“You would run away?” King crosses his arms and looks at me like I have no honor or something.

“I would strategically retreat to save my own ass, King. Yes. And I expect the same from you,” I glare over my shoulder at Ben.